What I’ve Learned To Say
Image Courtesy: Instagram
A man imagines an apple. He sees red, a core, a stem. A woman imagines an apple, she sees herself holding that apple. She sees her skin, her hair, her teeth biting into it. Women are conditioned to perceive themselves constantly. Though these are generalizations, for the sake of my argument, we must consider them. Women are an interpretive community, and that community is one I am a part of, so it is not easy to see life outside of it. It is arguably impossible to escape your interpretive community and be able to consider outside of it truthfully.
As a woman, aging is daunting and threatening. I’ve only ever been young. Each day, that youngness slowly slips away. It reminds me of Sylvia Plath’s poem where she equates herself to a reflection in a lake, watching a woman age: “In me, she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman/ Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.” That use of the word “terrible” is potent, encompassing, and perhaps even depressing. However, it is not a shock that a woman writer associates negative connotations with aging. How could she not? How could Plath, writing in the 1950s and 60s, possibly ignore the pressures placed upon women regarding aging?
Occasionally, I feel that terrible fish rise within me. But when I do, the women in my family remind me of the beauty of aging. I see it in the way they carry themselves, so full of love, so open to the world, and just unapologetically and undeniably pretty.
A song by Big Thief, called “Incomprehensible,” has been gaining traction, particularly amongst young women, on apps like TikTok and Instagram.
Image Courtesy: Instagram
The song is used in the background of pictures of aging women, mothers, and grandmothers, living beautiful lives with beautiful silver hair. The connotation is that aging is not something to be scared of. In the song by Big Thief, the lyrics are: “The message spins and spirals, "Don't get saggy, don't get grey"/ But the soft and lovely silvers are now falling on my shoulder /My mother and my grandma, my great-grandmother too /They wrinkle like the river, sweeten like the dew.” When I first heard the song, I was overcome with the notion that I, too, have been conditioned to believe my beauty is not only my most important trait, but one that needs to be isolated and contained against wrinkles and aging in general. When I look at my mother, I think she is one of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen. I could tell her a million times how wonderful she looks, but it does not, or cannot, drown out the societal pressures of appearing young. The media is very clear. If you are a woman, do not get old. If you do, dye your hair, get botox, get a facelift, do something to pretend you haven’t.
Image Courtesy: Instagram
When did we, as girls, stop seeing aging as a blessing? So many people are not lucky enough to get old, to have gravity be their friend and sculptor. I am not an exception. I started using retinol as soon as I turned twenty. I sleep with collagen masks on and examine my forehead closely every time I pass a mirror. At what point does self-care become toxic, as in, retinol not for self-care but youth-preservation? At what point does self-care morph into a frantic prevention measure? We should take care of ourselves, our skin, our hair, for our health rather than solely for vanity. Sometimes I get so deep into it that I forget about health and it becomes centered on outward appearance, which brings my mental health drastically down and creates insecurities. I imagine existing in this world without a body, just with a spirit, and the freedom to perceive outside of myself. I wonder how much time we spend in our lives dedicated to thinking about our appearance.
I have learned to apologize for how I look. I have learned to say, “I’m afraid of getting older.” I am not un-learning these things, as it goes deeper than a simple mindset change, since beauty standards are so embedded in our culture. Instead, I am learning new things. I am learning the beauty in aging, in self acceptance, and in the gift of getting older.
Strike Out,
Indigo Carter
Saint Augustine
Editor: Maya Kayyal
Indigo Carter is the Creative Writing Copy Editor for Strike Magazine. She loves Hello Kitty and reading books about fairies. You can find her at indigocarterr@gmail.com or on Instagram @prettypretty.princesss.
